Chapter 3: She's Just a Patient! What Did You Do to Her?

Vivian's POV

A woman's voice cut through the fog in my head, sharp with disapproval. "High fever, exhaustion, and now this accident. The patient is extremely weak. How did her family not notice her condition?"

Silence. No response from whoever she was talking to.

"Well, make sure she gets proper rest. I'll check on her later."

Footsteps faded away. I cracked my eyes open, everything blurry as hell. Rick was sitting in the chair next to my bed, scrolling through his phone.

"You're awake?" He immediately put the phone face-down, concern flooding his features. "Jesus, Vivian, why didn't you tell me you were this sick? Running a fever like that and still showing up to set. Do you have any idea how dangerous that was?"

I slowly raised my hand, cutting him off. "Don't. When you actually care about someone, you notice everything. When you don't..." I met his eyes. "You can ignore even the most obvious shit."

My voice came out weak but steady. Rick's face darkened, his expression turning ugly.

"What's that supposed to mean? Vivian, Amy and I are just business partners. Don't let your imagination run wild here. She's nothing more than that."

The thing about guilty people is they always know exactly what they're being accused of, even when nobody's asked the question yet. Rick was already defending something I hadn't even brought up.

His phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen and his whole body tensed.

"Yeah?"

A muffled female voice came through the speaker. I couldn't make out the words, but the tone was frantic, desperate.

"What? Hey, don't cry. I'm on my way."

Rick hung up, anxiety written all over his face.

"Babe, get some rest. Emergency at the office. I gotta go."

"What kind of emergency needs you at midnight?"

"Contract stuff. You know how this business is." He was already standing, grabbing his jacket with shaky hands. "Get some sleep. I'll be back in the morning."

Rick wouldn't look at me. He paused at the door for maybe half a second, but then he was gone.

I stared at the ceiling, pieces clicking into place in my fever-addled brain. What kind of business partner calls crying at midnight and makes a grown man drop everything to run to her side? What kind of emergency leaves your hospitalized wife alone without a second thought? The answer was painfully obvious, and it sure as hell wasn't about contracts or business.

The next morning, a young nurse came in to change my bandages, her hands gentle and professional.

"Who brought me in yesterday?" I asked.

"Some crew members from your film set. Young women, really worried about you. They waited until we knew you were stable before they left."

After she left, I felt strong enough to walk around. In the hallway, I caught voices drifting from the nurses' station.

"That couple in the VIP room on six is so sweet! He ordered some fancy three-star meal for his girlfriend and hired a private nutritionist."

"Romantic, sure, but honestly? That girl doesn't look sick at all. Seems like a waste of medical resources."

"What can you do? Guy's loaded. Even the director won't say anything."

"Don't you watch the news? That's Rick Johnson and Amy Williams! They were all over the Oscar after-party coverage. Such a perfect couple!"

My face went white. I gripped the hallway railing so hard my knuckles cracked.

I took the elevator to the sixth floor, walking down the corridor until I found what I was looking for. Through the glass window, I saw a scene that destroyed whatever was left of my heart.

Rick sat beside Amy's bed, holding a spoon and feeding her soup with the tenderness of someone handling a newborn. Amy wore a pink hospital gown, nestled against her pillows with this delicate smile. Rick's movements were careful, loving. When Amy would shake her head playfully, he'd coax her into another spoonful. They looked like real lovers. They looked like everything Rick and I used to be.

Standing there watching my husband care for another woman with the gentleness he used to reserve for me, I felt something break inside my chest. It wasn't just about the cheating anymore. It was about seeing him be the man I fell in love with, just not with me. All those little gestures, all that attention and care I'd been craving for months, he was giving it all to her. The worst part wasn't that he didn't love me anymore. The worst part was realizing he was still capable of love. He just didn't want to waste it on me.

Tears poured out before I could stop them. I ducked into a corner, crouched down, and cried as quietly as I could manage.

A pair of designer heels appeared in my line of vision. I looked up to find Amy standing there, wearing an arrogant smirk that was nothing like the sweet smile she'd worn for Rick.

"Done crying?" She looked down at me like I was something she'd scraped off her shoe. "Want to have a little chat?"

Amy led me into her hospital room and shut the door. The moment it clicked closed, she dropped the fragile act completely.

"I've gotta say, you're tougher than I expected. If I found out my husband was cheating, it would've been front-page news by now."

"What do you want?"

"What I want is for you to face reality. How much of Rick's success is because of your help versus his own talent? Everyone in this town knows the answer to that."

Amy's voice dripped with fake sympathy. "But honey, times change. What he needs now isn't some behind-the-scenes assistant wife. He needs a partner who can stand next to him and actually add value to his career. Obviously, I'm way more qualified than you."

"So you think I should just step aside?"

"Smart girl like you should be able to read the room. Rick's heart isn't with you anymore. Why hang onto a dead marriage?"

I let out a bitter laugh. "You know what? I was already planning to divorce him."

Amy's face went blank. "What?"

"I'm not the desperate housewife you think I am. If he doesn't love me anymore, why the hell would I stick around?"

"You're lying! If you really wanted a divorce, why would you come looking for Rick at the hospital?"

"I came here because I wanted to discuss divorce properly. I'm done dragging this out."

"Bullshit! You've been married three years. How could you give up that easily?"

I stood up. "Believe whatever you want. I'm tired of this conversation."

Just as I turned toward the door, Amy suddenly screamed.

"Ah! Don't touch me!"

Tears instantly flowed down her face as her expression shifted from arrogant bitch to terrified victim in half a second.

The door burst open and Rick rushed in, taking in the sight of "frightened" Amy and me standing by her bed.

"Vivian! What the hell are you doing? She's just a patient! What did you do to her?"

Rick rushed to Amy's side, pulling her into his arms and stroking her back.

"It's okay, baby. It's okay. I'm here."

I looked at the two of them clinging to each other and suddenly burst into laughter. That laughter sounded like I was mocking their pathetic performance, but really, I was mocking myself for being stupid enough to believe any of this had ever been real.